The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-10-09

OIOuOle. gu were Sau enough laSU session,
but l don't think you have laughed since
you came back to college this fall. Virgil
what is the matter! Are you not in
trouble.n
YES, Roger, am in trouble" replied
Virgil, touched by the sympathetic tones of
the Quaker youth, land if it were not for
the religion of Christ, fear l should sink
beneath my cross. Twill tell you all, Roger,
for can eonfide in you. was one of the
happiest boys in the world until five years
ago, when my father began to drink and
gamble, and-and-Oh, Roger, Roger,
cannot tell you ALL If did not love him
for what he once was and did not hope to
reclaim him some day and thus bring hap
pineSS back to our home, | would take
mother and my little brother and leave him.
Oh, my poor, wronged mother God alone
knows what she suffers, and with what meek
fortitude she bears her sorrow 1t nearly
drives me mad to see my angel mother
pining away under her trouble. Her heart is
broken-her health is wrecked-and soon,
very soon, she will be taken away from
me.n
Pausing to wipe his eyes, the boy con-
tinued
Neither her tears and entreaties nor mine
have proved of any avail with my father
He has gone ON in his recklessness until not
only our happiness, but also our fortune has
been wrecked. All our property, except
Fern Springs. the old homestead, has been
sacrificed to cover his Indebtedness, and be-
fore Christmas that will have passed into
the hands of creditors, and then we shall all
be sent adrift upon the cold world-my err
ing father, who never did days work in
his life; my frail, heart-broken mother, my
little brother and myself. 1t has ever been
the hope Of my life to secure a first-class
education, but l feel now that that hope can
never be realized. After this session-if
our circumstances allow me to finish the
term-I shall be unable to attend college
any longer, for it is my duty to make an
effort however feeble, to prevent us from
going to the almshouse. Oh, Roger The
future is so dark" And throwing his arms
around the neck of his companion, the
poor boy sobbed like little child
My poor friend! God knows l pity
you!" replied Roger, struggling hard to re
press his emotion. But, Virgil, don't
grow respondent. God, who has comforted
you in the past, will not forsake you when
greater trials come. But let us go to our
room. 1t is so cold out of doors"
Arm in arm the two youths crossed the
lawn, and passed around in the direction of
the row of cottages to the southwest of the
college 1t was late in the evening, and al
ready the lamps were burning.
Il feel miserable" exclaimed Virgil, as
he and his companion halted in the doorway
of one the cottages. Who is that coming up
the walk" he asked, as he sadly looked in that
direction. "A telegraph messenger, | do
heve Oh, my God What does it bringH
BE calm" said the Quaker boy. He
may have telegram for some one else-it
may not be for you. and every. other
student have as much cause to be alarmed
as you have" Turning to the messenger as
he advanced he asked:
"Will you inform me for whom you bring
a messageN
81 have a telegram for Mr. Virgil w.
Paine, replied the messenger, stepping be-
fore the boys. 'MayI see the young gentle
manm
Il am he," said our hero, with forced
composure. and, after dismissing the boy
who had brought it, he broke the envelope
and read with nervous rapidity the few sad
words:
''CULPEPER COURT House, Oct z, 1S-.
"Your father is dead. Come home"
''He is dead-my poor, err1ng tather-and
gone before the Judgment seat of God with
all his sins upon him! Oh, it is terrible
Pray for me, nv friend, for | feel as if my
heart were breakingl Please notify Prof.
Carroll of what has happened while l pre-
Eare for my journey, for l haven't mo-
ment to lose. u
Thus saying, Virgil assembled to the room
he and Roger occupied, while the Quaker
youth started off in search of the President
of the faculty.
Charlie Morris, bursting, into the room
while the gIief-stricken boy was in the
mi DIST of his preparations. "You are not
going to leave usI'
Yes, Charlie. have received distress
ing news-my father is dead"
''DeadW echoed Charlie, his great blue
eyes filled with mingled surprise and SYM
pathy. ''Well, that is sad-truly sad. l
feel very, very sorry for you, Virgilm
And with these words he bounded out of
the room to communicate to the students
the sorrow that had befallen their comrade,
whose modest, gentle demeanor had won for
him friend in every teacher and pupil
Half an hour later, when Virgil descend
ed, almost every professor and student gath
cred around him, and by their countenances
showed how deeply they sympathized with
him in his bereavement.
my carriage is at your service, my son"
said the kind-hearted President, after offer
ing his warm sympathy and bestowing upon
his young friend his farewell blessing
Roger Penn will accompany you to the de-
pot"
''Thank you, professor" returned our
hero "Good-by, sir Good-by, boys"
A moment afterward the carriage con-
tanning Virgil and Roger was out of sight.
Arriving at the depot, Virgil found that he
had only few minutes left. After pur-
chasing his ticket, and checking his bag
gage, he turned to his friend, and IN voice
tremulous with emotion, murmured:
''Of course j shall Good-by, Roger. Re
member your sad-hearted friend in your
prayers"
''Good-by, Virgil. 1 shall be very lonely
without you"
With a warm pressure of the hands the
boys hurriedly parted, each burdened with
weight of sorrow and disappointment.
There We're few passengers aboard the
train. Three gentlemen, in the heat of a
political discussion, were seated about mid
way the car, and opposite the excited trio
sat an elderly lady and a gentleman. Vir-
gil, desiring to be as secluded as possible,
passed to the further end of the coach. and
there, seated in dimlyhghted corner, as
the train dashed on through the darkness,
the unhappy youth, in his imagination,
lived over again the happy scenes of his
early boyhood. Once again he was a joy
ous-hearted boy, wandering with his little
golden-hared sister in search of ferns and
waterlilies Once again he was seated upon
his fathers knee gazing with childish pride
and affection up into the noble, handsome
face, unmarried as yet by dissipation, while
near them, with happy, contented express
sion upon her fair, girlish face, sat his
mother, fondly caressing the sunny hair of
his little sister.
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